


That's Not How the Story Goes

by Sid_Loves_Andy



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Coming of Age, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Forced Marriage, Motherhood, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid_Loves_Andy/pseuds/Sid_Loves_Andy
Summary: Eighteen-year-old Violet Baudelaire once again finds herself in Count Olaf's clutches, but this time with an added unfortunate twist - a white stick with two blue lines that will change her life forever.





	That's Not How the Story Goes

Violet Baudelaire’s dreams of motherhood had been swallowed in the same flames which engulfed the Baudelaire Mansion and with it, the baby doll that her mother had bought her for her third birthday. She’d engineered a sling for the doll out of a blanket and the chord from the drapes in their sitting room, and had carried the doll with her everywhere until Klaus was born. Then, she’d had a real baby to look after.

After the fire, her first priority had been to look after Klaus and Sunny. She’d slipped effortlessly into the role of caretaker, often acting much more like a parent to her younger siblings than the guardians that had taken them under their wing. She’d risked her own life for those of her siblings’ countless times, never once stopping to consider what would happen if she failed – even if she were to die, as she’d come so very close to doing in Heimlich Hospital, it would not matter so long as her siblings were safe and out of the clutches of Count Olaf and his henchmen.

So, when she looked down at the little white test clutched between her fingers, the two baby blue lines seemed almost surreal. The first explanation that came to her was that there must be a malfunction in the test – it had only cost her a dollar, after all, how reliable could it truly be? There was no way that she could actually be pregnant. Not now, not _ever_ , and certainly not by –

A fist hit the shoddy bathroom door so heavily the entire frame shook and Violet, startled, dropped the test into the sink. “Violet, my little sugar plum…” Olaf cooed, his voice dripping a venomous sort of honey. “What’s taking you so long? We have places to be.”

Ah, yes. Namely, an appointment at the hospital to take out the last round of stitches from his… _unfortunate_ run-in with a harpoon. Violet swallowed hard, “I’ll be just a minute m-more.” Olaf tried the doorknob, only to find it locked. “Please, I’m almost done -,”

She could hear the ire in his voice as he hissed, “Now, darling, dearest… you know how I feel about being locked out of rooms in my own house.”

“It’s the bathroom!” She cried, more than slightly offended by his assertion. Though it was indeed his house, it had been repurchased with _her_ fortune, and cultural norms dictated that everyone deserved some degree of privacy within the four walls of the bathroom.

“It’s _my_ bathroom.” He corrected darkly. However, she could hear the soft pat-pat-pat of footsteps moving _away_ from the door, so it would seem as if she had won the battle… for now. “Be ready in five minutes, or I take the door off. Permanently.”

She’d learned from experience to take his threats seriously. When she’d first returned to him, a little over a year ago now, he’d stuffed her back into the bedroom she’d shared with her siblings once upon a nightmare. The room had been originally meant for one, so it was not _too_ horrible to have the space all to herself. That was, of course, until the bed collapsed beneath her weight on the first night. Olaf had shrugged, tossed some blankets her way, and told her to make herself cozy on the floor. She supposed that she should have been grateful for the blankets.

When she’d made the mistake of complaining about the chill in winter (the floor and walls were little more than paper thin, and the cold crept right through and settled into her bones and made her ache constantly and made the chores she completed for Olaf and his henchmen all the more unbearable), he’d casually ‘offered’ to move her to the best room in the house. Now, Violet was an intelligent young woman, and she could tell by the lecherous smile on Olaf’s face and the laughter of his henchmen that Olaf was using a double entendre – a word which here means ‘a phrase with a double meaning’. But she’d thought that anything would be better than the floor. She was wrong.

Her dark eyes returned to the test, now sitting in the sink. Carefully, she fished it out, knowing that she would have to hide it before Olaf came around again – thinking fast, she stuffed it into the otherwise empty medicine cabinet above the sink. Olaf kept all of his pills in his bedside table, hidden away under lock and key. Whether this was due to paranoia that his henchmen would attempt to snitch pills behind his back or the fear that someone would discover his addiction to prescription narcotics, Violet did not know.

She hurried to make herself presentable, splashing some relatively clean water onto her face and running a comb through the knots in her hair. Her dress was new (read: stolen off a mannequin in the window of one of the shops on Dark Avenue) and clearly designed for a more voluptuous model, as it was much too loose in the chest and hip areas… and more than slightly snug in the belly. Violet swallowed hard.

Before she could think on it for too long, however, there was another heavy-handed knock on the door. “My patience is wearing thin, my darling dearest…” she yanked the door open before he had the chance to knock again, causing him to stumble forward awkwardly.

“Let’s be on our way then. We wouldn’t want to be late to such an important appointment.” She pushed her way past him, hurrying into the hallway and putting as much distance between herself and Olaf as possible.

A bony hand gripped her shoulder a bit harder than strictly necessary, “And where do you think that you’re off too in such a hurry?”

Violet resisted the urge to cower from the man who had haunted her nightmares for the better part of the last five years. Instead, she offered, “Um… to the… to the car. How else are we going to get you to your appointment?”

“You must think that a Christmas tree just fell on me.” Olaf retorted smartly.

“Actually, the expression is ‘you just fell out of a Christmas tree’.” Violet could not help but rise to the bait, correcting the older man.

Olaf rolled his eyes, “You know, I’m sure in some universe, there is a use for that big brain of yours. Right now, it’s just making you significantly less attractive.” He sighed, “Esme was annoying as hell, but smart enough to know that you don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

Violet frowned, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she bit back, “Feeds me with money pilfered from _my_ fortune.”

Olaf’s face contorted with rage, and he yanked his hand back from her shoulder and poised to strike her. Violet flinched, prepping herself to receive the blow – her hands instinctively went to her stomach, wanting to protect the small life blossoming inside of her. Even if she did not necessarily believe the test, she wasn’t willing to take that sort of chance. She’d spent so long attempting to protect her immediate family from Olaf’s treachery, by now it had become second nature.

Olaf looked at her strangely but, thankfully, backed down at the last second. Instead, he wrapped his hand around her bicep and squeezed tight enough to leave an ugly mark. “What’re you just standing around for, huh? Weren’t you the one that said we were running late?”

Violet let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, only to let out a startled shout as Olaf proceeded to drag her down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door… It would seem as if Olaf had been distracted, for now. But how long could she conceivably keep such a humongous secret from him?

 


End file.
